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The Companion Page 27


  Their journey through the city was unremarkable, and soon they were welcomed into the Gardiners’ home. Jane and Aunt Gardiner were present that morning, and though they had already been sent to the nursery and the older to their lessons, the children soon learned that Elizabeth was present and clamored to see her. The Gardiner children consisted of two older girls and two younger boys, and they gathered about her, the younger hopping with excitement while the eldest attempted to give the appearance of maturity and reserve.

  Elizabeth introduced them to Anne, and her friend was rewarded with some perfunctory greetings from the younger children—who were, Mrs. Gardiner said with a laugh, far too excited to see Elizabeth to pay attention to any other callers—but with awe and rapt attention from the eldest.

  “You are very pretty, Miss de Bourgh,” said Amelia—the eldest child—upon being introduced, greeting Anne with a sweet little curtsey. “You are my Cousin Lizzy’s friend?”

  “I am, Miss Gardiner,” was Anne’s reply. From the way she smiled at the girl, it was clear that Anne was delighted with her manners. “I met your cousin in Kent, you know.”

  Amelia darted a glance at Elizabeth before turning her attention back to Anne. “Lizzy stayed here for a night before she went into Kent.”

  “And I am very glad she did come. You see,” Anne lowered her voice and drew the child in as if imparting a secret, “your cousin was of great assistance in Kent, for she slayed a dragon on my behalf.”

  Eyes wide, Amelia stared back at Anne, her mouth open a little in her surprise. “An actual dragon?”

  “Perhaps not quite a real dragon, but still terrifying enough. You should not doubt your cousin’s bravery, Miss Gardiner. She is a true friend and will do her utmost to protect those she loves.”

  Amelia nodded, her head a blur of motion. “Yes, she is. She is particularly kind to me, my brothers, and my sister. And she tells the most wonderful stories.” She paused to consider and then said shyly: “Do you think my cousin tells stories of her actual exploits rather than making them up? I had always assumed she invents them for our amusement, but if she is able to slay a dragon, I wonder if she has lived her adventures.”

  Anne’s delighted laughter rang throughout the room. By this time, Jane and her aunt had taken note of the conversation and were listening carefully, taking no trouble to hide their grins. For her part, though Elizabeth was still besieged by the other children, her attention was on Anne. She hardly knew how to feel—she thought she should be vexed with her friend, but since Anne was only speaking with her dear cousin, amusement seemed destined to win the day.

  “It is very possible she has actually experienced the stories she relates,” replied Anne, with a sort of gravity which gave her words all that much more weight. “I have rarely seen such heroism as when your cousin visited me. You should tell me some of her stories, so that I may help you judge whether they are true or fiction.”

  “Oh, no!” cried Amelia. “It would be much better if Lizzy tells them, for she is ever so good at it. She even does all the voices and makes the sounds the animals would.”

  “I shall be happy to,” replied Anne. “Perhaps we could persuade her now.”

  “Unfortunately, I believe it is time for the children to return to the nursery,” said Mrs. Gardiner. She affected a sternness to her children, though it was clear she was in danger of breaking out in a wide grin. “You will be able to see Lizzy many times before she returns to your Uncle Bennet’s house. Now is the time to allow the adults to speak.”

  The children protested as they were wont to do, but there was little resistance when they were led away, though each one stopped and embraced Elizabeth before they departed. Little Amelia was the last, and before she could be induced to go up the stairs, she had to say:

  “You must tell me if your stories are real, Lizzy. I have never known a heroine before—I should like to know if you are one.”

  The other three ladies were experiencing difficulty in controlling their laughter, and as she was diverted herself, Elizabeth could not find it in herself to be angry. Instead, she pulled the girl close to her.

  “They are just stories, my dear. But I am happy to tell them to you, for they are nothing more than a bit of harmless entertainment.”

  Amelia looked skeptical at Elizabeth’s words, but she allowed herself to be led from the room by the governess. The governess was a woman whom Elizabeth had always considered sensible, if somewhat stern, but it seemed even she could not help but give Elizabeth a smile and a shake of her head, and then she was gone.

  “Anne!” cried Elizabeth, fixing her friend with a glare. “You should not lead her on so!”

  “Oh, Lizzy!” said Mrs. Gardiner. “It is nothing more than a lark. I found Miss de Bourgh’s conversation with my eldest to be quite diverting, indeed.”

  “As did I,” added Jane with her typical diffidence.

  Elizabeth attempted to glare at her relations, to show her displeasure for their betrayal, but soon it became too much, and she laughed with them. They had a spirited visit thereafter, and contrary to Elizabeth’s fears, Anne did not press forward with her campaign to bring Jane back together with Mr. Bingley. In fact, Anne was solicitous of Jane’s feelings, and she was interested to know Jane, as far as Elizabeth could tell. She would not have suspected her friend of duplicity, but Elizabeth could own to having more than a little trepidation regardless.

  “I believe you are correct, Elizabeth,” said Anne as they departed to return to Darcy house later that morning. “Your sister does feel the absence of Mr. Bingley keenly, though her ability to maintain her good humor does her credit.”

  “It is a surprise to me that you are able to understand her,” remarked Elizabeth, not sure what to make of Anne’s statement, though she knew it was essentially true. “Jane is reticent, and often it is difficult for even me to understand what she is thinking. You have only met her twice.”

  A faint smile was Anne’s response. “I spent so many years listening to my mother speak that I became adept at watching others. Jane is not so difficult to make out, I think, if you know what to watch for. But had I not already had your account, I might have missed those little signs which now speak louder than words.”

  “But you noticed them before I ever told you.”

  Anne shrugged. “Like I said, I am practiced at noticing these things.” She smiled, though Elizabeth could not help but wonder if it was a little sad. “That is why I was certain that Darcy would never oblige my mother and offer for me. Besides his avoidance of my company, every little mannerism confirmed he had no intention of marrying me.”

  “Dearest Anne,” said Elizabeth, reaching forward to grasp her friend’s hands, holding them in a tight grip. “Do you regret his lack of interest?”

  “No, I do not. I never wished for his attentions.” Anne paused and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery, her grip flexing rhythmically, though Elizabeth thought her friend had no notion of what she was doing. “I only wish . . . Well, let us say there are times I wish that a man would look on me the way Darcy looks at you.”

  Elizabeth was not ready to consider Anne’s assertion in any detail, so she focused on her friend’s despondency. “Then we shall simply have to ensure that someone does just that.”

  A raised eyebrow and a questioning look were Anne’s responses. Elizabeth only laughed.

  “We are to engage in society, are we not? We shall dress you in all the finest fabrics and latest styles, find the most flattering ways to do your hair, and present you as a very desirable partner. I am certain we shall have no trouble in making every single man in London madly in love with you.”

  “I am not beautiful, Elizabeth,” said Anne, though she positively shone with pleasure. “I think they are more likely to flock to your side, rather than mine.”

  “I absolutely forbid it,” declared Elizabeth. Then she showed Anne a gentle smile. “I think you devalue yourself. The dres
ses you have ordered will do much to improve your appearance. We shall also improve your hair by curling it—I do not like this style that imitates your mother’s, for it seems dowdy and old-fashioned.” Elizabeth reached out and touched Anne’s hair. “Yes, I think ringlets will do nicely. And as your color is already much better than it was when I first knew you and your cheeks are beginning to fill out, I think you will be far prettier and draw far more attention than you think.”

  Emotion sparkled in Anne’s eyes, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought tears would roll down her cheeks. After a moment, when she seemed able to control herself, she reached out and drew Elizabeth into an embrace.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth. You are such a wonderful friend—I do not know what I would do without you.

  “Now,” said Anne, as she pulled away from Elizabeth, “I believe we are only a short distance from the house. I have a great desire to walk the rest of the way and improve my stamina. Let us alight from this coach.”

  Though surprised at Anne’s declaration, Elizabeth had no objection, so when Anne knocked on the roof, asking the driver to stop, Elizabeth was willing to follow her friend. As they walked back—one of the footmen in tow watching carefully over them—they laughed at the coachman’s incredulous expression and the slight shake of his head which seemed to express complete befuddlement in the ways of young gentlewomen. Elizabeth and Anne paid the man no attention—they were far too busy enjoying themselves.

  True to their mutual resolve, the ladies spent the next week in each other’s company, bringing their plans to fruition. Elizabeth spent many hours in Anne’s room with the maid in attendance, attempting to find a style which would most suit Anne’s looks. Their results were often diverting, and the girls shared much laughter, but in the end, they found a few, largely those styles which were simple, but elegant, in nature which suited her. Laura soon began using those, rather than the frumpy look her mother had demanded.

  Anne also adhered to her intention to build up her strength, and she insisted upon accompanying Elizabeth on her daily walks. She could not walk so far or so fast as Elizabeth—this much was true—but Elizabeth did not mind walking more slowly and taking shorter paths, content as she was with Anne’s company and pleased as she was with her friend’s progress. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam often commented on the changes they saw in their cousin, and though she acknowledged them with apparent pleasure, she kept to her course.

  The dresses they had commissioned with the modiste were soon completed and delivered, and their appearances improved by the selection of styles and fabrics in which they were now clothed. Though Elizabeth thought Anne was the greater beneficiary of these new looks, Elizabeth did not miss how Mr. Darcy often looked at her with greater appreciation. It was becoming more apparent that Mr. Darcy did, indeed, possess some admiration for her. Elizabeth did not miss it, but she remained cautious, preferring to consider the matter herself rather than canvas it openly.

  Anne’s desire to peruse Mr. Gardiner’s selection of fabrics was also not forgotten, much to Elizabeth’s amusement and Mr. Gardiner’s delight and enthusiasm.

  “Of course, I am happy to have you look at my wares,” replied he when Elizabeth applied for permission. Then he winked at Anne. “Only take care you do not pauper me, as my wife and nieces often seem intent upon doing.”

  Elizabeth and Anne only looked at each other and giggled, as Elizabeth had exactly predicted the gentleman’s reaction to their request. She was certain that Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy came to some agreement about their access to the fabrics—she spied them shaking hands the day they inspected his wares—but as it was likely beneficial for them both, she held her tongue. They claimed enough fabric from several bolts to be made into dresses for them, and their newfound procurements did not go unnoticed.

  “Why, Miss de Bourgh, this fabric is simply delightful,” said Madam Fournier when presented with a beautiful bolt of pale pink silk. “Wherever did you find such beautiful cloth?”

  “It is from my uncle’s warehouse, Madam,” replied Elizabeth. “He imports and often has lovely fabrics in his possession.”

  The lady looked at Elizabeth, some interest in her gaze. Elizabeth had well known that, to Madam Fournier, she had not been the equal of Anne or Georgiana. The lady had treated her with kindness and respect, but most of her attention had been reserved for the other two women. Elizabeth had not begrudged them the attention, but she sensed that it was about to change.

  “Miss Bennet,” said Madam Fournier, confirming Elizabeth’s suppositions, “would you be willing to introduce your uncle to me? If he can obtain fabrics of such quality, I would be happy to purchase them. I cannot imagine any lady in London would not wish to be wrapped in such finery.”

  “I shall speak to him, madam,” replied Elizabeth. “I am certain he would be happy to make your acquaintance. I believe he does supply several dressmakers, but he would be happy to find another buyer.”

  For a moment Elizabeth thought the lady would protest—she was one of the most fashionable dressmakers in London, after all, and she likely thought an introduction was only her due. In the end, however, she only smiled and claimed her anticipation for making Mr. Gardiner’s acquaintance. Mr. Gardiner was, as Elizabeth expected, eager to meet with the modiste, and soon he had agreed to supply her with his fabrics in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Elizabeth was happy, for she knew that her uncle would begin importing more of his fabrics, and his income would increase accordingly.

  It was late the next week when Georgiana received a pair of expected, but unwelcome visitors, at least from her perspective. In fact, Elizabeth knew that Anne had been waiting impatiently for these particular ladies to come, for it meant she could unleash the schemes she had been spinning in her mind. Elizabeth’s feelings were more ambiguous—she had no love for these particular ladies and knew they viewed her with barely concealed disdain.

  When the ladies were led into the room, Elizabeth had gone to the window to look out onto the street, and, consequently, neither saw her when they entered. Thus, she had front row seating from which to witness—and savor—all the ridiculousness of their initial behavior.

  “Dearest Georgiana!” exclaimed Miss Bingley as she waltzed into the room as if she was already its mistress. “How wonderful it is to see you! Louisa and I have been quite bereft of your company these past weeks!”

  It was clear to Elizabeth that Georgiana’s excitement at the sight of the ladies was unequal to Miss Bingley’s for her. But she greeted them in a voice which only quivered a little and was almost audible. Unfortunately, Miss Bingley did not allow her to speak further.

  “It has been positively an age since we were last in your company—and dear Mr. Darcy’s company too! How wonderful it is that you are in town and that we may all once again bask in the enjoyment of our mutual society.” She leaned forward, as if to intimidate the girl into acquiescing to her machinations. “My brother, Charles, is quite looking forward to greeting you once again. I declare there was no other subject which could hold his interest during the entirety of our journey from York.”

  It was a near thing, but Georgiana managed to refrain from grimacing at Miss Bingley’s entirely inappropriate speech. Nearby, Anne was also standing, watching the spectacle with open amusement. She did not speak, however, neither to give encouragement nor censure, and Georgiana was forced to deal with the new arrivals herself. For her part, Miss Bingley cast several sidelong looks at Anne, clearly trying to assess who she was. She must have realized from Anne’s dress that she was someone of standing, for she did not speak to Anne, instead waiting for Anne to request an introduction.

  Finally, Anne turned her head slightly and caught Elizabeth’s gaze, and winking at her, she turned to Georgiana and said:

  “It seems you have charming friends, with whom, I believe, our guest is also acquainted.” Anne turned quite deliberately to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, would you do the honors, and introduce these ladies to me?


  Mrs. Hurst was the first to follow Anne’s gaze, and she gasped upon seeing Elizabeth. Miss Bingley, however, was slower to understand what Anne was saying—rather, she appeared confused, having thought there was no one else in the room. Elizabeth held her laughter at bay and made her way to Anne’s side, Mrs. Hurst’s eyes following her as she went.

  “How do you do, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley?” greeted Elizabeth.

  The way Miss Bingley’s eyes suddenly found her, Elizabeth thought the woman might pass out from shock. She could only suppose that surprise would soon give way to disgust, for she knew that her presence here could not be agreeable to the proud woman.

  “Anne, please allow me to present Mrs. Louisa Hurst and Miss Caroline Bingley to your acquaintance,” said Elizabeth, not allowing the woman to recover her composure. “Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley are sisters to Mr. Charles Bingley, who leased an estate near my home in Hertfordshire last autumn.

  “Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley,” continued she, turning to the two other ladies, the latter of whom was already recovering, if her disdainful glare was any indication, “please allow me to present Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent. Miss de Bourgh is the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who is sister to Miss Darcy’s late mother, Lady Anne Darcy.”

  The two ladies retained enough of their grasp on propriety to curtsey to Anne, and the five ladies sat down on the sofas, while Georgiana ordered a tea service. For a few moments no one spoke, and though the silence was uncomfortable, Elizabeth was the only one who seemed to notice it. Anne watched the two ladies, her enjoyment of their surprise all but painted on her face, while Georgiana sat silently, seeming to expect some unpleasantness. For their parts, the Bingley sisters seemed to have been rendered speechless, and while Mrs. Hurst watched with apparent trepidation, Miss Bingley soon regarded Elizabeth with a calculating glance, clearly trying to understand why she was here. Unless Elizabeth missed her guess, the woman was also trying to determine if Jane was present and if not, where she was.